


Family First

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: mating_games, Light Dom/sub, Mpreg, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is <i>uncomfortable</i>. Why should he have to be the pregnant one? Maybe his lovers should remind him exactly how treasured he is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family First

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for challenge #4 (ties that bind) at Mating Games. The established relationship I chose was Derek/Stiles/Lydia and the new bond I chose was bearing children. I apparently had a big threesome and children thing with this, since the other piece I wrote (and didn't submit) was also about the same topic, just a different point along the timeline (and a different threesome). As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf; I just like to play with them.

Stiles stands at the sink, reaching for the sprayer, and _again_ his belly ends up soaked. It’s the third time this week and he’s really thinking about swearing off dishes for _reasons_ that everyone else in the house ought to be able to understand. “Derek!” He steps back, pushing at the suds that make a line across his shirt, then tries to tug the shirt back down into place. “Lydia!”

“Is there a problem?” Lydia leans against the doorway, forehead furrowed as she contemplates one nail. Stiles glares at her. Her petite build. Her _skinny_ stomach.

“This is your fault,” he snaps, and gestures at his soaked front. “ _Your_ fault. Two guys, one girl, and here I was thinking that when we got around to having kids it’d be _you_ who carried them. But _no_. It’s Stiles. Good old reliable _Stiles_ who gets to be as big as a cow and waddling all over the place and not able to reach the damned sprayer on the sink in order to do the dishes and _maybe_ it’d be nice if someone _else_ decided to do them for a while until this is over.”

Lydia blinks. “Are you done?”

“With the dishes or ranting?”

“Ranting.” Lydia steps closer, framing his face before kissing him quickly. “You’re beautiful, Stiles, and you are _not_ as big as a cow. A small dog, perhaps. Or a wolf.” She flashes a small smirk. “And you are well aware that if I could get pregnant, we would probably both be carrying children right now.”

“There’s irony for you: one magical human male can get pregnant, and his werewolf immune human wife can’t.” Stiles can’t help the slight whine in his tone. He’s hot, he’s wet, and he’s frustrated. It’s _summer_ , and he still has at least two more months before this is done and someone else gets to hold the baby.

Her gaze softens. “I like it when you call me wife, even though I’m legally married to Derek.” Her hand cups his face, then glides lower, toying with the buttons on his shirt. “Are you upset that we’ve done this? That we’re starting a family now?”

“I might’ve liked to finish my degree—Lydia, what are you doing?”

“Stripping you.” Her gaze is guileless. “Your shirt’s wet. You should take it off. I think your pants are wet, too.”

“I wouldn’t know, I can’t see them.” But Stiles doesn’t need to see her hand when it presses against his crotch, kneading him through his sweats. “Okay, so, maybe if they aren’t yet, they will be if you keep going like that.”

She kisses him again, fingers pushing his shirt open as she glides down his body, kisses following the trail of hair down his chest to his belly. She nuzzles the bulge of their child, hands firm against his taut skin while her mouth moves lower.

Lydia teases him through the sweats first, making _sure_ that his sweats are soaked before she finally pushes them down and lets him thrust into her mouth. He can’t see her, but he can feel her.

At a soft growl, he glances up. Derek is there, watching them both, gaze fond and possessive. Stiles jerks his head in silent invitation, sighing when Derek moves behind him, cradling his body and giving him that lovely strength to lean into.

Stiles lets Derek hold him up when his knees go weak as he gives himself over to Lydia’s ministrations. She is an expert with a cock in her mouth, teasing him unmercifully, nail gently scraping just behind his balls until he quivers from need. “Oh fuck, Lydia… please… Just…” He doesn’t have words for this, for the way she makes him feel.

Stiles just barely catches the flash of movement; Derek’s fingers thread through Lydia’s hair, holding her as his hips push Stiles into her, fucking her throat deeply. She swallows and he loses control, spilling into her mouth.

She kisses him, all bitter musk, then pulls Derek in for a kiss as well. “Our Stiles needs to be reminded just how much we love him,” she murmurs. She steps back to shed her blouse, bra a bright flash of crimson across her breasts.

Derek lifts him onto the counter; Stiles no longer cares about the water when his ass lands in a puddle. All he cares is that he has his lovers and they will take care of him. He can get through anything—even pregnancy—with his family close by.


End file.
